


The Tension

by robindrake93



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Book 2: The Sea of Monsters (Percy Jackson), Hurt No Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, POV Third Person, Smoking, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28690494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robindrake93/pseuds/robindrake93
Summary: Luke prepares the room for Percy and Co. to stay in while they spend the night aboard the Princess Andromeda.
Relationships: Luke Castellan/Percy Jackson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	The Tension

**Author's Note:**

> This was just going to be a text post on tumblr (luke-x-percy) about how funny it would be if Luke saw the kids and scrambled to get the room ready for them...and then it turned into this. 
> 
> To change the font to black, click "Hide Creator's Style" at the top. 
> 
> Don't reupload/repost my fics.

Luke always enjoyed a blunt before bed and leaving Camp Half-Blood did not change his patterns. Getting high wasn’t the end goal, though he didn’t particularly mind that side effect. The smoking was for pain management. The humid summer night found him on deck, smoking, staring out across the ocean toward Long Island. They were too close for Luke’s liking, but kids had been sneaking from Camp Half-Blood to the Princess Andromeda all winter and it helped to be close enough to pick them up if they needed the assistance. 

Movement caught his eye. Luke watched the figures come closer until he saw his favorite little fish. The one Fated to die, the one that survived the pit scorpion just like Luke knew he would. The trio was obviously headed toward the ship. Luke wished that they would join his side...but he kept the hope that they were defecting from the Olympians tamped down. Deep, deep down. 

Luke took a few minutes to consider what he wanted to do and smoke more. He wanted everything to go as smoothly as possible. He wanted them to trust him. Luke took one last hit of his joint, then he snuffed it out on the railing. He would have to move quickly. 

Luke ran down to the kitchens for a bottle of sparkling cider, a bucket of ice, and a basket of chocolates. The cruise ship was high end enough that both of these things were included in every room at the start of the cruise. Those had long since been consumed by mortals before Luke and his army took the ship. But there were spares in the kitchen. He even found a mint to put on the pillow. Luke was feeling quite pleased with himself as he made his way through the ship, looking for the perfect room for them. 

As he passed by rooms and rejected them, Luke locked their doors with barely a conscious thought in his part. When he found a good room, one with a connecting door - because those children and that monster were not going to sleep in the same room - Luke stepped inside. He put the iced cider on a small table and set the basket of chocolates next to it. He placed the mint on the pillow; and stood back to survey. Something was missing. 

Luke took a notepad and pen from the nightstand and scrawled a note in his most fancy handwriting: _Enjoy your cruise!_ He placed the note on the pillow beside the mint. There. Now everything looked perfect. 

With his welcome gifts in place, Luke made his way to the nearest red phone on the wall. The red phones were connected to the ship-wide PA system. Luke punched in the code and then began speaking, warning everyone that there were special guests coming aboard tonight and they were not to be disturbed...and anyone caught out of their beds would be executed. Luke sat the phone down and heard his voice echo back to him. 

Luke chose an empty room across from theirs to hide in. His heart hammered. He waited in the dark, laying on a bed and staring up at the shadows dance across the ceiling. Some of the tautness within him loosened and he knew they were getting close. Luke closed his eyes. 

Their footsteps came to him. He heard their voices next, unable to discern the words but he knew the timbre of both Annabeth and Percy. The third voice sounded stupid and brought with it the scent of cyclops. What was Annabeth doing with one of those? Luke could understand Percy, but not his beloved little sister. 

The door opposite of his opened and then closed as they went inside. There was more muffled talk. The connecting door opened and closed. Male voices - Percy and the cyclops - spoke quietly. Then just Percy. Then nothing. 

Silence except for the waves lapping at the hull of the ship. Everyone was tucked away in bed, fearful of Luke’s wrath or his disappointment. 

Luke’s heart pounded. His limbs felt like jello as if he just had a really good work out. He could smell Percy’s scent even across the hallway; a mix of boyish sweat and ocean water. It reminded Luke of the many hours he’d spent training Percy, pushing the boy to his limits and beyond, from sunrise to sunset, trying to stuff five years worth of knowledge and skill into Percy’s mind and muscles. 

Luke waited. 

He did not wait for long. Giddiness made him hollow and filled him with butterflies and champagne bubbles. It occurred to Luke in an abstract sort of way that perhaps he was a little drunk from the champagne at dinner and a lot high. 

Luke rose from the bed. He opened the door, stepped across the hall, and opened that door too. 

The cyclops was asleep on the couch, snoring loudly enough to have covered the sound of the door opening. Luke briefly thought of killing it, then dismissed the notion. Might make too much noise. 

Luke’s eyes dance across the room to the bed. He crossed the room, stood beside the bed. He sat down on the edge of it, gazed at the sleeping boy. All of the tension wound out of him then, relaxed finally into something gooey and relieved. Being apart was painful, in a way. Luke lowered his face to Percy’s. 

A hand reached up and Luke kissed the boy’s right palm. There was a scar in his skin, a raised asterisk. He took Percy’s hand and kissed it purposefully. 

Percy’s sea glass green eyes stared up at Luke, faintly illuminated by the hall light. He said, in a furious whisper, “I hate you.”

Percy’s words cut deep like a knife in his chest. Luke said nothing. 

“How could you do this to us?” Percy went on, tone less furious and more devastated. His hand trembled. 

“I -” Luke began. 

“Don’t,” Percy cut him off. “I don’t want your meaningless apology or your inadequate excuses.” He pulled his hand away from Luke’s mouth and pushed on Luke’s chest. “Go.” 

Luke knew that he fucked up. He’d known before he did it, he knew as he did it, he knew after he’d done it. That didn’t make it hurt less. It hadn’t been his idea to murder Percy. But if Luke admitted this out loud, or even in his conscious, he would have to admit that he wasn’t in control of Kronos. That he was as powerless now as he’d been with the Olympians. Luke wanted to say something that would make it better but nothing he said could fix this...especially not if Percy was unwilling to listen. With one hand, Luke pressed Percy’s hand to his chest, over his fast-beating heart. With his other hand, Luke gently ran his knuckles along Percy’s jaw. 

Percy trembled beneath him. His fingers curled into claws like he could puncture Luke’s chest and rip his heart out. His cheeks, at least, were dry; which meant that he wasn’t crying yet. 

Luke swallowed down his emotions. He could stay here, touching Percy for the rest of their lives, until eternity ended, and still never get enough of it. Knowing that it was their shared life string that made Luke feel this way did nothing to negate the feeling of loss whenever they were apart. One - or both - of them was going to die. Luke hoped they would die together but Fate hadn’t been kind to him so he wasn’t counting on it. Sometimes Luke wished Percy had never told him of that encounter with the Fates. He leaned down swiftly, pressed his forehead to Percy’s, pinning his head to the pillow before the kid could headbutt him. Their noses touched. “Don’t forget what I taught you. You’ll need it, Percy.”

Percy made a squeaking noise, the kind of noise that someone makes when they’re trying their damndest not to cry. “I hate you,” Percy exhaled between them, as intimate as a confession of love and as impactful. 

His words were a twist of the blade already in Luke’s heart. Luke pulled away from Percy and felt the tension beginning to return. He let Percy’s hand fall as he stood up and backed away. Luke walked backward, eyes on Percy’s face the whole time. The tension between them became a knot in his gut. It was like a rubber band being stretched or, perhaps more accurately, like a spool of yarn being unraveled within him. 

Percy covered his mouth with his right hand, a look of agony on his face. He visibly trembled but he did not cry. Good. Percy would need to be strong. The whine came again, with a note that at once said _go away_ and _come back._

Luke closed the door quietly. He walked back to his room in a daze, feeling flayed open and angry and helpless. When he got to his suite, Luke curled up on the bed and drew the front of his shirt, where Percy touched it, up to his face. He breathed in Percy’s scent.


End file.
